


Arrow Up

by stepstate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepstate/pseuds/stepstate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a result of Isabel's trickery, TeamArrow has a cash flow problem. Felicity changes that, but will Oliver like what she did?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrow Up

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter One**

Felicity was deep in thought when she heard the soft knock at the door. As she reached the door, someone called out her name on the other side. Diggle.

"Hey – come on in," she said.

"You must've been deep in thought." Diggle had gotten quite good at reading her mind. "Ya working on anything interesting?"

"Is that why you're here – to check on my work away from work?" She motioned him inside as she lightly punched his muscled arm.

Diggle looked at her, "I'm not gonna lie. I wanted to check on you. It's . . . well, it's plain ol' batshit crazy right now with Slade. And Roy. And now Oliver's apparently just signed over his company to Isabel."

She closed the door behind them and followed Diggle into the den. Ever since he had staked outside of her townhouse a few months back, he continued to check in with Felicity on a regular basis and was now comfortable with the layout of her townhouse. They were becoming good friends, not just good partners.

She lived in a trendy part of Starling City where it seemed a prerequisite to be young and single to live there. Diggle thought it a shame she didn't have any spare time these days to take advantage of her surroundings there and meet somebody special. He feared she'd already met her "somebody special," but  _he_  was too busy bedding every unstable woman in Starling City.

Felicity moved her laptop to the coffee table and they sat down on the sofa.

"About that – the whole Oliver-signing-his-company-over-to-Isabel thing. I know that can get handled in the courts, but it takes time."

"And we have to get Slade taken care of first," Diggle added.

"Right. But we still need money. Those arrows are not cheap. So much of the Queen family's money was tied into the company, and the rest of it's in properties and investments. Oliver no longer has the Verdant profits since Thea took over. Our,  _operation,_  if you will, requires cash flow, too."

Diggle sat back and crossed his ankle over his knee. "Sounds like your brain's been focused on building a cash flow."

"Right again. And you're gonna love what I've done." Felicity's brightly colored lips curved into a widening smile.

Felicity reached for her laptop and opened the lid. She pressed a few buttons, moved a few screens around and spun the monitor toward Diggle.

"This pillow is nice." Diggle said as he adjusted a large sofa pillow and leaned over to get a better view.

"Thanks. It's from IKEA." She cut her eyes over to Diggle. "As is everything else in here."

Diggle smiled back at her. Felicity loved her some IKEA. Putting together furniture for her was so much fun, much like rebuilding the computer station in the Arrow Cave when she first joined the team.

Diggle looked at the window she had pulled to the front of the monitor. It was the Google Play store. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"This," Felicity pointed to an app called Arrow Up. "Apps are so big these days, and there's plenty of money to be made with them. Remember Flappy Birds? It earned an estimated $50,000 a day before the creator removed it over being stressed out at the volume of downloads."

"Wow," Diggle reached over and grabbed a handful of Goldfish from a bowl on the coffee table and popped a few in his mouth. "And you're saying you've created a game that's making $50,000 a day, I hope . . ."

"Well, not quite that much," she laughed, "but it's making respectable earnings for me. All I did was download a Java SDK and code a program."

"SDK?"

"Software Development Kit. And I'm – we're – making money off the in-game advertising I added." Felicity clicked on the app from Google Play.

Diggle scrolled down the description. And smiled. "Oh, boy – this is great!"

"Thanks – and it has lots of in-app features like choosing your own music and target boards. And you can upgrade for even more features like shooting at bouncing tennis balls like Oliver does." Felicity was proud of herself, and Diggle was, too.

"Again –  _wow!_ " Diggle scrolled further down the review and saw app screenshots of the different arrows making their way to their targets. "Exploding arrows, eh?" Diggle said as he looked at different screenshots.

"Yep – the object of the game is to fire off an arrow and tap or slide your finger across your phone or tablet to hit the target. To add variety, you can earn different arrows, hence the name, as you advance to harder levels."

Diggle clicked on the reviews for Arrow Up and raised his eyebrows. "It's got great reviews – and lots of 'em!"

Scrolling over to another window, she clicked on it and a bank account appeared. Diggle scanned it and let out a low whistle. "Daaaay-um, Felicity. You have single-handedly taken care of TeamArrow's cash flow woes."

"Yep," she looked at him and smiled. "There's an app for that."

 


	2. Oliver Finds Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver doesn't always react the way he should, and this time is no different . . .

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter 2: Oliver Finds Out**

The brown cardboard UPS box looked big. And heavy. Nothing cheap came in big, heavy boxes. Felicity looked surreptiously at Oliver as he walked toward the box and called him over to her just as he put his hand on the lid.

They had moved to the Clock Tower as a temporary home while Thea was fighting Isabel over the eviction of Verdant. It wasn't too bad as far as secret superhero lairs go.

"Hey – here are the specs you wanted on the sewers." Felicity watched his eyes linger on the box.

"Thanks. Um, what's in the box over there?" Oliver pointed. "And it's not the first one I've seen recently."

"So?"

"Sooo . . . what are you doing, Felicity? What are you buying? And,  _more importantly_ , how are you paying for it?"

"We have to have supplies, Oliver. Arrows and ammo don't grow on trees – and neither do Bic pens or . . . or lair snacks, for that matter. We have to buy them and other thi-."

Oliver put his hand on the back of her office chair and bent over close enough to smell her perfume. "With  _what_ , Felicity? We have no money!"

"Well, you're wrong there." Felicity pushed her glasses up on her nose and looked over at Diggle who nodded to her. "We're buying supplies with money I've been earning," she sighed. Knowing he'd ask how, she took a deep breath and continued, ". . . aaaand I've been earning it with an app I created."

Oliver didn't know why he blew up, but he just did. "What do you mean exactly?"

She explained everything to him and pulled it up on her Samsung Galaxy. Diggle even came over with his cell phone in his hand.

"Hey, man – you can play mine. I'm on level 28 now."

Oliver brushed the phone away. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Felicity rose up out of her seat making Oliver straighten up to give her space. "Well," she looked straight into his blue eyes. "It was something I started at home, Oliver. And, honestly, please tell me when there's been  _any_  time to talk about clerical issues with all that's going on?"

"You made time to tell Digg." Oliver's jaw was tight.

"But only because he stopped by to visit the other night. I happened to have the info up on my laptop, so I showed it to him. I explained my idea for the app – you know, the basic layout with levels and upgrade options and advertising. I also showed him the bank account where I'm putting all our profits."

Oliver really only heard one phrase out of Felicity's explanation. "Diggle stopped by your house?"

Felicity's jaw dropped open. " _Really_ , Oliver? Yes. Yes, he did. And you wanna know why? Because that's what friends do. They spend time with each other away from work. You should try it sometime."

She kicked her chair back, and it spun violently as it rolled and hit a long metal work table. She gathered up her purse and tablet and left without another word. In her mind, she had said plenty.

Oliver closed his hands into fists and walked slowly away from the computer station.

"Look, Oliver – I don't think I need to tell you what you need to do." Diggle started.

"Nope." He looked over at Diggle and sighed, bringing his hands to the sides of his face and running them back through his hair. "I'm really  _such_  an idiot sometimes."

"No argument there," Diggle kidded.

Oliver sighed again and sat down one of the chairs not kicked across the room by Felicity. "I guess I was mad because I like to –"

"—to know everything, right?" Diggle finished. "Well, it's been ten kinds of crazy around here, and she probably really did not think about it since she handles that in her spare time. Seriously, man – Felicity is so freakin' smart, it probably only took her a day to use the SDK to make the app."

"SDK?"

"Oh, Software Development Kit. Don't worry – I didn't know what it was either until she explained it the other night at her house. You know - the house that you need to go visit – and  _soon_."

Oliver looked over at Diggle and nodded. "Yep . . . but there's one thing I need to do first."

He grabbed his jacket from a nearby table and headed toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank goodness for chapter three -- Oliver needs it to make amends, bless his heart . . .


	3. . . . and Oliver Makes Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope Oliver says the right things this time around . . .

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter 3: . . . and Oliver Makes Amends**

Felicity was mad.  _Hopping_  mad as her mom would say.

"I'm so  _mad_!" Felicity said to the air in her townhouse as she closed and locked her front door. "Mad! Mad!  _Mad_!" She huffed, stomping her boot on the parkay foyer floor.

And, really, she had every right to be. Going straight to her home after she left the Arrow Cave, she stood in the middle of her den with her black mid-length trench coat still on and her leather purse hanging by its strap in her hand.

She was mad, but she was also upset. Aaaand it started – the tears.

"Oh, that's just great. Good ol' Felicity crying over Oliver." They came slowly at first, but soon enough, her shoulders were shaking and she really let it all out, sobbing and dropping to the floor on her knees.

After several minutes, Felicity felt better. She always did after a "good" cry, and she rose up off the floor. After putting up her jacket and purse, she did what any self-respecting girl would do. She grabbed a spoon from one of her kitchen drawers, fished out the pint-sized mint chocolate chip ice cream from the freezer, and ate it right out of container.

 _Well, that was good to the last lick of the spoon_ , she thought. Feeling energized by the sugar high of the ice cream, she thought she might as well take advantage of it and clean her townhouse.  _Besides,_  she thought,  _that would give me something to take my mind off of my troubles with Oliver._

After changing into a pair of black yoga pants and her favorite hoodie from her alma mater MIT, she scrubbed her face, applied moisturizer and her favorite Gingerbread flavored Chapstick, and pulled her hair up in a messy bun.

First, she found her MP3 player. Cleaning was always best done to music. Once the Artic Monkeys were filling her ears, she gathered up her cleaning supplies and made her way to her bathroom.

She polished, scrubbed, wiped, swept, and mopped every inch of her small bathroom until it gleamed and smelled like a bowl of freshly cut lemons. Satisfied with her efforts, she moved to the kitchen. She unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher with her mile-high stack of dishes crowding the sink and decided to go ahead and scrub the sink itself. It was positioned on a section of the countertop that wrapped around in the open and looked out over the den.

While she was scrubbing, she encountered a stubborn bit of caked-on food that refused to leave the stainless steel of the sink.

"Gosh, this spot is as stubborn as Oliver!" she said through clenched teeth.

She bent downward and increased her scrubbing motion. Her elbow went back too far and she hit it, releasing the brush.  _Whooosh_! It flew in the air into the den. Her eyes followed its path and it landed in Oliver Queen's hand, making a squishy sound as he wrapped his fingers around it.

"I'm stubborn, eh?" Oliver smiled.

"Nice catch – knock much?" Felicity asked, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a smile in return.

"Nice toss – answer much?" Oliver countered.

"I had earbuds in. What's your excuse?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Oh . . ." she stared at him, one hand resting on the edge of the sink and the other pushing up her glasses. He wanted to see her.

Coming closer, he noticed that Felicity's eyes were puffy and red. She had been crying and he resolved at that moment that he would not leave until he made amends.

"And apologize." He also noticed that she had no makeup on.

"Oh . . ."

And he also couldn't help but notice that she was a natural beauty. "I am so sorry that I got mad and yelled at you. It was really stupid of me . . . I know you were just trying to help."

"Oliver," the mint chocolate chip ice cream gave her clarity. "We have been relying on your money all this time – what's wrong with relying on my money for the time being? You're not used to accepting money, are you?"

"No, and I guess it's because I'm always used to having it – and lots of it."

"Well, I think it's that, but maybe something else, too."

"What?"

She walked around the counter to stand right in front of him. His eyes trailed downward taking in her outfit for the first time and lingered on her yoga pants. He was used to seeing her in office attire. He'd also never seen her with her hair piled up loosely on top of her head. She looked so down-to-earth and sexy at the same time.

Felicity noticed Oliver looking her over and she cleared her throat before continuing.

"Oliver, you're too damn possessive of things. Your secret identity, decisions on strategies," she said, ticking these items off on her fingers. "And now we can add how to make money for our . . . cause. Just . . .  _every_ thing!"

Felicity let out a sigh of exasperation and turned away from Oliver.

He took stepped toward her until he was barely an inch away, close enough to breathe in what he thought was the faintest scent of gingerbread. She whirled around, not realizing he had moved so close, and her lips brushed up against his shoulder.

"Oh – sorry!" Felicity took a step backward.

"You're right, Felicity. About all of it. But I'm right about something, too."

"What's that?" She asked, looking up into his blue eyes, darker and more intense than usual tonight.

"You work too much – in your spare time. Digg's noticed it. And I've noticed it. I know we've got Slade and the miracuru to fight right now, but I want you to take time for yourself when this is over."

"You're right – lately, it seems all I do is Arrow." Felicity grimaced and squeezed her hands into fists. "I mean – I don't  _do_ you. Of course, I don't  _do_  you. I just –"

"Felicity." He just stared down into her eyes.

It was her turn to stare into his eyes.

"So," he paused, "I brought you something." He took a small package out of his jacket pocket.

She took it and opened the lid. Inside was a shiny silver arrow industrial piercing bar with a heart in the middle.

"I might be the Arrow, but you, Felicity – you are the heart of our operation." She stared down at the arrow with the heart, tearing up. Oliver bent his knees to where he could look into her face. His hand cupped her chin gently and tilted her head back as he stood back up, and then he pressed his lips to hers.

 _Yep_ , he thought,  _definitely gingerbread_.

"I don't – I don't know what to say." She breathed over the effects of his kiss as their lips lingered together.

"That's a definite first for you," Oliver said, his voice scratchy and barely above a whisper, and Felicity could feel his lips turning up into a smile. He ran his other hand up the back of her arm. "Say you'll do something with me when this is all over – not as my 'Girl Friday' but as Felicity Smoak, scrub brush thrower extraordinaire."

"Absolutely – I'm your girl," she said returning his smile and reached across the counter, grabbed a kitchen towel, and swatted him.


	4. His Girl Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay – this chapter takes place several weeks later. Slade has been defeated, and Oliver is making good on his request that Felicity do something with him as friends and not as partners fighting crime.

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter 4: His Girl Friday**

As Felicity headed across the parking lot of her neighborhood's local coffee shop, Cup and Chaucer, she saw Oliver's Ducati. She pulled open the heavy glass door, and the delicious aroma of roasting coffee, fresh croissants and pastries displayed on a nearby countertop, and Oliver's warm smile greeted her.

The coffee shop was full of overflowing bookcases. Being connected by an arched doorway to an old, second-hand bookstore, the coffee house benefited by receiving regular donations of overstocked books for consumers to borrow. Felicity walked over to the pair of worn, mismatched chairs Oliver had picked out for them. Nestled in the corner flanked by tall bookcases and filled with paperbacks, it was perfect for quiet conversations.

"Leave it to you to arrive early and case out the joint," Felicity giggled.

"I don't like surprises unless I'm the one giving them," he winked at Felicity and stood up as she approached the empty chair, touching her elbow lightly as he kissed her cheek.

Felicity's cheeks flushed and she sat down. Their friendship had finally blossomed like a patch of spring flowers into something more. Something beautiful. However, they both agreed to wait until Slade was defeated before walking too far down the romantic path they were both anxious to explore.

A barista stopped by their table with two tall mugs, also mismatched, and placed them down on the table. Oliver nodded his thanks and the young woman left them alone. Felicity took the nearest mug, raised it to her nose, and inhaled. "Mmmmm . . . mint chocolate latte. How'd you know that was my favorite flavor?"

"I saw the container of ice cream on your countertop that night." Oliver was referring to the night a few weeks earlier when he came to her apartment for the first time. He always smiled when he remembered that night because it was the first time they had kissed.

Between the two chairs was an old, octagonal-shaped wooden side table right out of the late '60s modern furniture style that had a chessboard painted on the top. Whoever had sat there before them had left the chess pieces on the table.

"Looks like someone had just started a game before they left," she picked up a pawn.

Oliver looked over Felicity's shoulder. "Yeah, I convinced them to find a new spot."

Felicity followed his eyes to another table behind her. "It's just as well," she said pointing at the white pieces. "White didn't have a chance with the Sicilian defense Black was setting up here."

"I'm impressed," Oliver nodded at her analysis.

She smiled. "Just one of my favorite games growing up."

"And here I was thinking it might be Candy Land," Oliver laughed. "Speaking of games, though . . ."

"Yeah?" Felicity asked as she slurped some of her mint chocolate latte.

"I, uh, downloaded this new app last night."

Felicity's eyes lit up. "You did?"

"Yeah, and it was created by a super smart, very attractive and witty woman," Oliver pulled his phone out of his inside jacket pocket, touched the screen, and slid it across the table.

Felicity picked it up and smiled, looking back up at Oliver. "My, my, my! You're at level 17 and you just downloaded it last night? It's like you've got experience shooting arrows or something." Her eyes danced as she kidded him.

"It's really a fun game. I even bought an upgrade for five different arrowheads!" Oliver reached over and rested his hand on her forearm, caressing it softly with his thumb. "Thank you for taking care of us. And our endeavor."

A wide smile broke across Felicity's face. "You're very welcome."

She reached down and pulled her tablet out of her bag and touched the screen a few times herself before turning it around to show Oliver. He studied the window before him and nodded slowly.

"Wow – you're in the wrong business, Felicity. You're telling me you've made  _that_ much money in just a couple of weeks? With that one app?"

"Yep," Oliver could tell Felicity was proud of herself. Hell, he was, too. "Six figure earnings in two weeks ain't bad, eh?"

"I do think there is one thing that might make it better, though . . ." Oliver mused.

"Oh, really?"

"Yep – if you made another app. I was thinking one that featured a brilliant IT girl." Oliver's blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled.

"Hmmmm . . . and would this app feature a puzzle that this brilliant IT girl would help solve by using information the gamer found during the game?"

"Um, yeaaah? Maybe . . . why?"

Felicity touched her screen a few times more and Oliver was suddenly looking at a colorful room with lots of furniture, paintings, and knick knacks on various tables scattered around the room. He glanced to the side bar of the screen and saw a few categories listed like "items," "tools," and "hints." Below those categories was a picture of a girl with glasses and a blond ponytail strongly resembling the woman sitting across from him. The word "codebreaker" was listed below her picture.

Oliver looked back up at Felicity. "Codebreaker, eh? Nice touch." He sat up straighter in his chair and moved the chess pieces over to make room for Felicity's tablet.

"Okay – so what do I do?" He asked.

"Well, you just start clicking on different parts of the room. When you hit on something I programmed as an item or tool, that part of the room expands for the gamer."

Oliver looked up at her. "So then you . . ."

"Go through a process of elimination to retrieve the items or tools to store in the sidebar. If the gamer is having trouble finding everything in the room, there are three hints to help."

"Kind of like Who Wants to Be a Millionaire." Oliver suggested.

"Yes, exactly – they're like lifelines." She laughed and then continued. "Everything in the room is one big puzzle to solve. It's sort of based on a game I loved as a kid called Myst."

"So where do you, I mean, the Codebreaker come in?" Oliver pointed at her likeness on the screen.

"Oh – well, once everything is gathered in the room, you use those items and tools to break a code that is revealed on the door. That's where I come in – I, or rather the Codebreaker, helps solve the code."

"That is so creative, Felicity." Oliver couldn't help but be impressed – again.

"Oh, and I'm adding upgrades to have different settings. Like a campground tent, for instance, or an ancient Incan temple, a high rise office – things like that.

"Wow," Oliver put his hands up. "What are you calling it?"

"The app?" Felicity flashed Oliver a 1000-watt smile. "I'm calling it My Girl Friday."

"Wednesday," Oliver countered, winking at her.

" _Fri_ day," she repeated, faking annoyance.

They laughed, enjoying each other's company and sipping their lattes in the secluded corner of the coffee shop.

Oliver reached over and played with a tendril of Felicity's hair that had escaped her ponytail. He tucked it behind her ear, noticing that she was wearing the arrow with the heart in her industrial piercing. "You know what's next, right?"

"Hmmm . . . what?"

"Digg's gonna want his own app next. It's only fair."

"Ooooh, good point." Picking up her bag, Felicity tilted her head toward Oliver. "Why don't you come back to my place and help me brainstorm?"

She didn't have to ask twice. Oliver was right behind her guiding her by the elbow out of Cup and Chaucer and into the evening ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kudos and subscriptions -- yay!! If you have a few seconds, please leave a comment as well -- they help me know your thoughts about the story, and I do respond to them. :))


	5. Diggle's Turn

 

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter 5: Diggle's Turn**

Oliver opened up the door at Cup and Chaucer for Felicity, and he admired the view as she walked ahead of him on the narrow walkway leading out to the parking lot. Her long blond hair hung in loose curls that bounced as she walked. She also wore jeans. And Oliver thought she wore them very well.

"I'm glad Diggle is getting his own app," Felicity said, turning around to Oliver when they reached the parking lot.

Oliver laughed, "You are?"

"Yep. That way all three of us will be earning money for our,  _ahem_ , cause," she explained, using air quotes when she said "earning".

"Hey -" Oliver said, looking over at his Ducati. "I didn't bring my spare helmet today. Is it okay if you drive?"

"Ohmigod . . ." Felicity paused. She clutched Oliver by his jacket sleeve, her mouth open and her eyes searching. Oliver looked down at her thinking something was wrong at first, but saw that her expression was one of excitement. And then he knew.

"Black Driver!" They said in unison and laughed. Diggle had given himself that moniker when Felicity had complained about her new secret identity job as an executive assistant once Oliver had been appointed as CEO.

Felicity couldn't help but appreciate moments when Oliver laughed.  _These were five years,_  she remembered him saying.  _Five years where nothing good happened._  His eyes were wild that night when he discovered Sara had survived the island. And they were wet. She could not,  _would not_ , begin to fathom the depths of despair his torturous time on Lian Yu brought him. No one deserved that, and so these brief moments where the sun smiled on his soul coaxing him to let his guard down were priceless to her. He was healing.

"Oh, what a riot . . . could we?" Oliver asked, holding his ribs from laughing so hard. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. And it felt good. Being more than friends around Felicity felt good. He reached over and took his hand lacing his fingers with hers as they walked toward her Mini Cooper.

Felicity looked up at him, wiping at her eyes from such a hard laugh. "Should we?"

"Ya know," Oliver held his free hand out for her keys, and she tossed them up in the air in front of them. He caught the keys with ease and looked at her. "Why the hell not?"

\--------------------------------

"Oliver, can you reach the top shelf and pull down the popcorn bowl for me?" Felicity asked as she unwrapped the microwave popcorn and stuck it in the microwave. She rummaged around in what she called the Chocolate Shelf in her pantry for a bag of plain M&Ms.

Oliver had no trouble getting an over-sized large red bowl that had popcorn kernels painted around the rim. He peered over her shoulder. "Daaaamn, Felicity. I know what to get you for your birthday," he said, taking note of her extensive variety of chocolate.

"Yep. Chocolate," she said, patting him on his bicep as she turned around with the M&Ms. "And wine and tons of tech stuff. I'm easy . . . er, to shop for, I mean." Felicity rolled her eyes at herself.

Her innocent innuendos still managed to escape her lips even though they were officially dating now. She supposed it was because they hadn't done much more than kiss and hold hands. Oliver was a perfect gentleman in the romance side of their blooming relationship and was taking his time. Felicity was glad but hadn't expected that from him based on his track history of five women in the past year that he raced to the bed, six if you counted Shado from the island. Still, she was curious about why he took his time with her.

While she tossed the popcorn and M&Ms together in the large bowl, Oliver dug in her refrigerator for beer. He emerged with two bottles. "Okay, pick your poison. Molson or Pilsner Urquell?"

"Hmmmm . . . tough call, but I'll go with Pilsner," she decided, fishing out the bottle opener from a drawer.

Oliver turned back to close the refrigerator door and her bedroom caught his attention. The door was halfway open, and he could see part of her bed. The covers were crumpled, and a pair of sleeping pants were tossed on the end. Her nightstand was stacked high with books and magazines. And, by leaning a little to the left, he saw several articles of clothing adorned the chair in the corner. He recognized a few as ones she had recently worn.

Felicity noticed it got quiet and she looked over at him. He was still, his hand resting on the refrigerator handle, and the slightest curve of a smile played slowly on his lips. "Oops," Felicity said, seeing him caught up in his reverie.

Oliver shook his head to come back to the moment. "Hmm . . . oh, I, uh, think it's nice that you don't have a straightened bedroom. I find that, ya know . . . refreshing." He ducked away from the fridge and helped her carry everything to the living area.

It was Felicity's turn to be amused. Oliver Queen was embarrassed. "You got caught daydreaming. About my bedroom. Admit it." A smile crept up the side of her face.

Oliver cleared his throat and put his hands out in front of him, palms up. "I guess so. You've got more than one type of beer cooling in your fridge and a lived-in bedroom. Guys like that."

"Ahhhh," she nodded. "To be honest, though, if I'd known I'd be inviting you back over here, I would've straightened up more."

"Understood," Oliver laughed.

"So, speaking of what guys like," Felicity said once they were settled in on her sofa and eating the popcorn and M&M mix, "what do they like with games? If we're gonna do a gaming app based on driving, what would guys want?"

"Hmmm . . . you know it's been five years for me. And then this past year was a little busy. I didn't have spare time for any games."

"Don't worry about the logistics. That's what I'm here for. Just tell me preferences, and I can do the rest."

\---------------------------------

They had finished their brainstorming session, their popcorn mix, and all their beer that Felicity had stored away in her refrigerator, six for Oliver and four for Felicity. They brought everything back to the kitchen. Oliver leaned over to place the bottles in her recycling bin, and put his hand on the small of her back for support. She turned around as he stood straight causing his hand to rest on her abdomen.

"Sorry," Oliver mumbled. He removed his hand and looked at his watch. "I better go."

"Okay -"

"I just -"

"You just what?" She pressed for an answer.

"C'mon, walk me to the door," he urged.

Somewhere between the kitchen sink and Felicity's front door, Oliver's body took control of his brain. Or maybe it was the six bottles of beer. Felicity's hand was on her deadbolt, ready to unlock it, when Oliver spun her around and leaned in for a kiss. His lips were warm and wet, and so was his tongue as it swept across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, and breathed in deeply as his tongue reached hers.

"Mmmm . . ." she exhaled. Her hands slid along the sides of his arms and wrapped around his upper arms, pulling him close to her.

He pushed her into the door. One forearm rested above her head against the door, and the other reached under her shirt, kneading the skin just above the waistband on her hip. She moved and her thigh brushed between his. And he stopped.

"I've got to go," Oliver mumbled, his forehead rolling slowly against Felicity's. His breathing was heavy and he reached in for another kiss, welcomed by her hungry lips. And then he pulled away from the kiss again, his hands flexing into fists.

"Why?" Felicity asked, determined not to let this resistance go unanswered. "I don't want to have sex with you. I mean, I do, of course. Want to have sex with you. But I want that later. What we were just doing, though, was fine by me."

"Believe me when I say," Oliver spoke in measured words, his voice low and his eyes dark, ". . . that it was fine by me, too."

"Then why -"

"-because you're it for me, Felicity." He stepped in close to her once more, hoping his hands wouldn't betray him again. "You are it. And you're the only woman I've met since the island that I've . . ." his voice trailed. "Well, that I've met with no expectations of who I was before. You got to know me as me . . . after the island. I trust you. And, Felicity, that is so damn hard for me to do." He ran his hands along the sides of his head, his blue eyes moist. "So damn hard. But I do. And I love you for it."

He said it. He was raw in his honesty, and she could feel it in his eyes as she gazed up into them.

She took his hands in hers. "What do we need to do?"

"To do things right," and he dipped his head to kiss her one last time. It was a slow, lingering kiss, rhythmic in its dance that burned images of future nights into her dreams.

He pulled away and slipped out the door, and she knew she would sleep well tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? My inquiring mind wants to know! :D
> 
> . . . and poor Digg - they need to quit kissing and develop that man an app.


	6. Diggle Finally Gets His Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning that rape is mentioned in this chapter. Also, in case you're just joining in on the story, we are now a few weeks past Slade's defeat.

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter 6: Diggle Finally Gets His App :)**

Sin walked to the front door, money in one hand and mace in the other, and peered through the peephole. A pizza delivery guy was standing there. He was slim and tall with long hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a dazzling smile. His blue Peroni's Pizza work shirt had two grease stains just below his chest, probably from the insulated pizza carrier in his hands. Sin bit her lip, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

"Hi," she said, one eyebrow cocked toward her forehead.

"Hi," the delivery boy said, taking the box out of the carrier. "Here's your pizza."

Sin handed him a twenty dollar bill, and the boy's dazzling smile disappeared. "Oh, man," he groaned, scrunching his face. "I just gave the last customer all my ones. Do you have anything smaller?"

"Um, let me check," Sin said, distracted by the question. She turned around to grab her wallet, and her world went black.

\-------------------------

"I'm on the way, Roy," Diggle said, his words calm and even. "Just stay there. I'll connect Felicity and then you can fill us all in."

"Okay. But hurry, damn it."

Diggle had just gotten home from a very busy day and wanted to watch the World Cup matches he recorded on his DVR from earlier in the day. Today's Round of Sixteen featured France playing Nigeria and Germany playing Algeria. He was careful not to turn on the satellite radio in his SUV or look at his Twitter and Facebook feeds for fear of finding out the scores. However, it looked like duty was calling again, and the World Cup would have to wait. He put his beer back in the fridge and grabbed his keys.

He looked at his screen and pressed Felicity's number adding her to the call. She answered on the second ring. "Felicity - hey, you still in the lair with Oliver?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice low. "Oliver's stitches are finished and he's feeling the effects of your famous aspirins right now." Oliver, in fact, was asleep and snoring lightly, off to dream about the three drug pushers he and the others had just put in jail. He busted up his bad knee again, but it was worth it. They had moved into the new lair that Oliver had kept hidden from them, but most of their equipment was still in boxes.

"Damn. Seriously? Why'd ya give 'im Oxycodone for stitches?"

"That's all we had, Digg. Team Arrow doesn't ever do anything light, including the med supplies."

"Point made. Is he awake?"

"Uh-uh. Out cold."

"I knew we shoulda made him take a seat on the bench for a while longer. He still needs to heal from his injuries with Slade. We can handle stuff for a while without him."

"Yep. But you can't tell a brick wall that, eh? What's up?" She asked, tucking the blanket around Oliver's waist. "Or, more importantly, what'dya need?" She walked over to her makeshift command center in the new lair and sat in her chair, rolling up to the center monitor.

"Well, speaking of handling stuff, we have a situation. Like right now," Diggle said.

"Damn right we do," Roy interrupted, pushing the sleeves of his red hoodie up on his elbows. "My friend Sin is missing. I just stopped by her place to hang out, but she's not here."

"So . . ." Felicity tried putting the pieces together.

"So she was ordering pizza for us, but she's not here."

"Ohhh," Felicity started, pushing up her glasses and switching over to her Bluetooth earpiece. "Let me guess. You two were doing the solve-a-crime-by-yourselves thing again, weren't you."

"Yes, but -"

Bingo. Puzzle solved. Unfortunately, the crime wasn't.

"And you and Sin were looking to catch the crew behind the these pizza kidnappings," Felicity said, interrupting Roy this time.

"Yes," Roy tried again, "but she took it a step further and was going alone this time, dammit, and those pizza pricks got her. She knew better than that."

"You both knew better than any of it," Diggle reprimanded, getting into his SUV and starting the engine. "Felicity, catch me up to speed on these kidnappings. I don't know much other than they are committed by more than one person. The SCPD thinks it may be a team of two men. And that they pose as pizza delivery guys from all the pizza places around The Glades, not just one, so it makes it harder to pinpoint them. I'm switching to Bluetooth now."

"Oh, gawd, Digg. That means you better buckle up and use the 10 and 2 position on the steering wheel. But, yes. It makes the kidnappers hard to spot," she said as she pulled up local online stories on one monitor and the SCPD reports on another."

Diggle drove. Felicity searched. Roy paced.

"Oh -" Felicity gasped.

"What is it?" Diggle and Roy jumped at Felicity's surprise.

"Roy, where are you exactly?"

"Outside Sin's duplex. Why?" He asked, concern crept in his voice.

"Break in. Now."

Diggle and Felicity heard a crash over their earpieces. "Done," Roy said, smashing a window with a large, rough rock he found on the ground. Of course, underneath the large, rough rock was a spare key. He would have to talk to Sin about security for her apartment if, no  _when,_  they found her.

"Okay - good. See if you see the pizza box anywhere," Felicity said, still skimming a report on her screen.

As Roy looked, Diggle sped. Somehow the man managed to make every light, but that may have been due to him driving double the speed limit and zig-zagging expertly around the slower drivers who moved at the pace of dying turtles. Diggle was fearless behind the wheel.

"Found it," Roy said, his jaw set like granite.

"Open it. I bet there's a note inside."

"Yes," Roy said as he lifted the box with a napkin, the concern from earlier replaced by anger. "It says 'Crust for Cops'. There's only the pizza crust left, Felicity. It's like they are eggin' the cops on, those little fuckers."

"That or they have a beef with 'em," Diggle interjected as he made one more light and turned onto a side street. "Okay, I'm here."

"Shit, Speed Racer - that was wicked fast! I just called you seven minutes ago," Roy said, checking his watch.

"Well, I am the world's best black driver and have an app to prove it," Diggle said, his lips inched up in a weary smile.

"Huh?"

"I'll tell you about it later. Let's get Sin first."

"Yes," Felicity said, "let's get Sin first. According to this one report I'm scanning now," Felicity adjusted her glasses, "the police always find a pizza box, each from a different pizzeria, but always with leftover crust and the 'Crust for Cops' note. They're calling these guys the Crust Crew." She clicked for another report. "A victim escaped and reported that there were two men that she was aware of, both younger. And -"

"And what?" Roy said as he opened the door of Sin's duplex before Diggle had a chance to knock.

"Well," Felicity paused, staring at the screen. "The victims were all female, and this one woman that escaped said they weren't just kidnapping them. They had plans to . . . rape them. That was a week ago."

They were all silent for a moment.

"Okay," Diggle spoke first. "Two things. Do you still have access to the NSA's program to track people via their GPS even when their phones were powered down?"

"Yes, give me a sec -" Felicity said as she went to her third screen and stroked the keys quickly, her slick black nails gleaming in the monitor's light. "I'm in. Again."

"Do you have Sin's number handy, Roy?"

"Yes," Roy answered and gave it to her.

"Good. Start tracking, Felicity. Secondly, this note bothers me. I think it goes back to what I said earlier. They have a beef with the cops."

"Interesting you said that, Digg," Felicity said. "I pulled up statistics on serial rapists. Guess what - seventy-five percent are under the age of twenty-five years old."

"Hey - the woman that escaped said they looked young to her," Roy pounded his fist on Sin's kitchen countertop.

"'Xactly," said Felicity. "And they are usually tall and of average weight, which is what the escaped victim reports. They are also typically high school graduates from lower-class backgrounds, and like to play games with the police."

Diggle rubbed his face with his hand. "And I am willing to bet they tried the police academy as a potential career after high school."

Felicity opened up yet another window while the NSA's program worked its magic on finding Sin and searched the files for the past five years of applicants to the SCPD Academy. She scanned for several minutes, casting quick glances every once in a while toward the futon. Things had been going slowly but smoothly since a week ago when she and Oliver had gone back to her apartment after meeting at the Cup and Chaucer. Oliver was still sleeping, and at some point had rolled onto his back and moved his arm. It now stretched out above his head allowing a better view of his muscular chest.  _Stop_ , Felicity told herself, _focus_! And she turned back to the screen.

"Ohmigod," she said. "There are three guys that fit that description." More typing and clicking. "And they all graduated from the same high school. Digg, you're on to something."

"Good," Roy said, "maybe that'll lead us to these fuckers."

 _Beep!_  The NSA program lit up on Felicity's monitor.  "Ahh, and maybe sooner than later. Sin's phone is at 1649 East River Street."

"Got it," Diggle said, and he and Roy raced to Diggle's SUV while Felicity punched the newly reinstated Detective Lance's number in the Arrow's contact list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I didn't want to go with the hey-Digg-here's-your-app storyline, so this idea fell onto my word processor. I hope you liked it. Are y'all cool with the action, the dialogue, etc.? Let me know. :D
> 
> The last chapter should be out in a few days - I sure hope Oliver's Oxycodone wears off so he and Felicity can talk. :)


	7. Black Driver

**Arrow Up**

**Chapter 7: Black Driver**

Roy barely had time to slam the passenger door shut before Diggle took off toward East River Street. He grabbed the "oh shit" bar above his head as Diggle took the turn onto the main road with two wheels in the air. Roy nodded his approval over to Diggle when the wheels touched down on the asphalt, bouncing the SUV as it settled. The man could drive under pressure. Just as he straightened the wheel out, a large UPS truck stopped unexpectedly to deliver a large package.

"Outta my way,  _dammit_ ," Diggle swore. "Brown can't do anything for me right now." Diggle swerved around the truck, wheels screeching, and just missed a sedan coming the opposite direction. The other driver blasted his horn.

"Damn, you're a good driver, Digg," Roy said, his eyes were as wide as an owl's as he looked back at the sedan that stalled in the middle lane. "Hey, did you say you had an app earlier?"

"Oh, that," Diggle chuckled as he punched the accelerator to make a light. "With Isabel's hostile takeover of QC, we were a little tight on funds. Felicity helped out by developing apps for us. Mine is called Black Driver and features car racing. You can pick out your model, color, rims, flashing neon lights, window tinting, and body kits. You can even choose auto shift or manual. And, Felicity added upgrades for things like engine, suspension, brakes and handling. It's pretty cool, actually."

"Wicked - and too bad we don't have one of those tricked out cars right now," Roy laughed.

"Yep, that it is," Diggle smiled, briefly forgetting their current mission, as he thought about the time and effort that Felicity put into making that app. And, he had to admit, the name Black Driver was perfect.

"You got an extra Bluetooth, Digg?" Roy asked. Growing up in The Glades his whole life, Roy didn't need to program the address Felicity gave them into Diggle's GPS to know where it was. But he would appreciate any intel she could throw their way. He was quickly learning that Felicity could pretty much do anything with a keyboard and a little wifi connection.

"Glovebox," Diggle motioned with his head, "and hand me the Glock and the extra 9mm clip. Should also be some handcuffs and a couple of tactical flashlights. Keep one for yourself. It might come in handy."

Roy found everything and secured the Bluetooth in place. "Okay, Felicity, talk to me."

Felicity groaned audibly over the earpiece.

"Nah, man. That's  _his_  line," Diggle shook his head as he ran through a red light and hugged the curb to make another turn.

"Oh," Roy said, catching the reference to Oliver. Clearing his throat, he made another attempt. "Uh . . . tell me what you know, Felicity."

Diggle suppressed a chuckle. A look of helplessness descended upon Roy's rugged good looks. He looked over at Diggle and shrugged his shoulders. Roy was a quick learner, always had been, but figuring out this team dynamic was like getting an advanced degree, and he had barely finished high school.

"Glad you asked. I just pulled up the specs on the location. It's . . . wait for it, wait for it . . . another warehouse. Surprise, surprise, here in The Glades. There's a main floor that appears to be wide open with rafters and some office space to the side," Felicity clicked a few more times. "And a basement with some rooms."

"Plenty of space to keep women hostage," Roy flexed his fists and his cheeks were turning red.

"Keep your cool, man," Diggle said, catching Roy's frustration in his voice. "You get too fired up and you won't be able to think straight, make good decisions. That quick temper might be a lingering side effect of the Mirakuru in your system for so long. Don't let it get you killed."

"'Kay," Roy mumbled, looking out the window and taking deep breaths.

"Guys," Felicity piped in.

"Yeah?" Roy asked.

"There's a service entrance with a regular entrance door beside it on Limeon Street. There also happens to be a fire escape with rooftop access and an entrance up there.

They turned onto one more street that ran parallel to Limeon Street and stopped the car. "Okay," Diggle said. "It's just you and me against at least two of them."

Roy nodded. "And innocent women."

"Right - we want to help them, not get them hurt in the process. Keep level-headed, Roy."

"One more thing," Felicity's voice came through. "I called Detective Lance. Roy, when you hear sirens, get the hell outta there. Don't forget you're wanted by the SCPD right now . . ." she reminded him, cursing the Mirakuru's influence on his actions that fateful night.

Roy sighed, and Diggle put his hand on Roy's shoulder. "We'll figure that shit out later. For now, let's get these scumbags."

They got out of the SUV. Diggle's gun was drawn and Roy pulled his hoodie up over his head, his eyes were set like stone. Diggle pointed at Roy and then to the rooftop. When Roy nodded in agreement, he pointed at himself and toward the small door beside the service entrance.

Diggle pushed open the door. It creaked but not too loudly, and he slowly made his way down the short hall toward the sound of men talking. "I'm in," he whispered in his comm. "Men are here. Be my eyes in the sky and tell me what you see."

Roy double-timed it up the fire escape ladder and had no trouble getting across the roof. The trouble came when the door opened. It sounded like it hadn't been touched in a hundred years.  _Motherfuckin' son of a bitch_ , Roy thought.  _So much for being Diggle's eyes up high_.

He had no choice. He swung the rusted, groaning door open wide with such force that it rammed into the wall. The sound reverberated into the bowels of the warehouse as Roy barreled onto the rafters.

Diggle grimaced when he heard the racket and figured what had happened with the door. He thought Roy did the best he could do given the situation and his inexperience. The deafening noise from the metal door did prove to be quite the distraction, and Diggle was able to cast a furtive glance around the corridor. There were three young men, and he guessed they were the ones Felicity had dug up information on earlier.

As luck would have it, the stairwell leading downstairs was right in front of him. He jumped across the hall and dove down the stairs.

"Sin," he called out when he reached the bottom. It was pitch dark with only the smallest stream of light coming from the upstairs. "I'm Roy's friend, Diggle." He had seen her from a distance once, but it had been a while. He wasn't sure if she knew who he was.

"Mmmmm! O'mer mereeee . . ." came a muffled voice.

Diggle glanced back up the stairwell. He heard the men scrambling around up there, probably trying to figure out what or who made all the noise on the roof. He turned on his flashlight and saw that Sin was in a grouping of five women. They were gagged and huddled together on the floor, their hands and feet tied up behind them.

"Are you alright? Anybody hurt?"

Muffled responses came from all the wide-eyed women. They all appeared to be untouched as he took out his folding plain blade knife and started cutting their restraints. He hoped the worst the ER staff would find would be mild food deprivation and shot nerves.

"Okay, listen. The police are not here yet. I need you all to stay put while my friend and I subdue these creeps. It's for your safety." He handed Sin the flashlight.

Roy handled himself pretty well against two of the men with some smooth kick boxing moves when Diggle got back upstairs. He was a good street fighter and had been learning a lot in their training sessions. Diggle noyiced the third man had picked up a lead pipe and was moving in on Roy from behind.

"Drop it," Diggle said, his voice dropping two octaves lower.

The man played it smart and dropped the pipe, raising his hands in the air. Roy finished off his two men just as the sirens sounded in the distance.

"Go!" Diggle assured Roy. "I got this."

Roy took the stairs two at a time going back to the roof. Diggle had taught him to always go higher, which is one reason Oliver trained him in parkour so often. It was almost second nature to jump across narrow streets to neighboring rooftops nowadays and off to safety.

Diggle went to the top of the basement steps and called for Sin. "Hey, it's probably best if I'm not here either when the cops get here. Can you handle things for another minute?"

"Sure," she replied. "And . . . thanks."

Diggle nodded and made his way down the hallway to his SUV as he told Felicity that all was well. He might just be able to watch both of the recorded soccer matches before the night was over after all.

\------------------

Felicity took the earpiece out and smiled at a job well done for Team Arrow. Again. Two sets of criminals locked up in one night.

"Uhhnn . . . Felicity . . ." Oliver mumbled, stirring on the futon.

She grabbed her tablet and walked toward the futon, settling into a chair beside him. Felicity took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. "I'm here."

"Hmmm, I know. And you always are," he said, words slurring. "Here, for me." His eyes opened slowly, and he looked at her, his blue eyes dilated and unfocused.

Leaning over, Felicity pressed her lips to Oliver's. "And you for me," she said.

Oliver pulled her hand causing her to come off her chair and onto him. He may have been medicated, but he still had his strength. Steadying her, he lifted the blanket and motioned for her to get under it.

She pushed away. "Oliver, you need your rest," she protested.

"I'll rest much better with you next to me," he said, not letting go. His thumb rubbed her palm.

"I must admit, that's a compelling argument," she teased.  _The man could do sexy even in a drug-induced state_ , Felicity thought as she laid her tablet down in the chair. Her eyes skimmed every inch of his shirtless chest but stopped short when they reached below his abs, remembering something. She gestured toward the dark, shadowed area underneath the lifted blanket. "But, um . . . you're in your boxers. Just your boxers."

His lips raised in a lazy smile, "You don't seem the type to take advantage of a drugged up, defenseless vigilante." He pulled her face to his and kissed her so deeply she forgot what day it was.

"Well," she stammered. "Since you put it that way . . ." her voice trailed as possibilities of snuggling up with Oliver permeated her brain.

Her plan for the night had been to access Slade's and Isabel's financial accounts. Isabel was dead, of course, and Slade wouldn't need his money anytime soon. She was positive they had both come into their money by ill-gotten means. But she like Oliver's suggestion for how she should spend her night better. She took off her glasses, shrugged out of her shoes, and discovered that she spooned into his form perfectly.

He folded the blanket around her waist, his arm around her shoulders, and his words around her heart as he whispered "I love you," and they settled into a sweet sleep together among all the unpacked boxes in the recess of their new lair.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the sweetness at the end of this chapter with Oliver and Felicity, check out "Snuggly and Smart." It's a one-shot but super sweet after they have an adventure and get back to the safety of the lair.

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts out with a few characters but others join later. Also, Olicity shows up in chapter three -- wait for it, wait for it. :))


End file.
